


the song playing so softly in my heart

by Lire_Casander



Category: 9-1-1: Lone Star (TV 2020)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, The Author Regrets Nothing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-20
Updated: 2020-05-20
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:48:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24287644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lire_Casander/pseuds/Lire_Casander
Summary: five times carlos asks tk on a dance, and the one time tk returns the favor
Relationships: Carlos Reyes/TK Strand
Comments: 16
Kudos: 141





	the song playing so softly in my heart

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Bellakitse](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bellakitse/gifts).



> Prompt: **Five times TK and Carlos danced, maybe ending with their wedding dance?**
> 
> Title comes from _You Are My Song_ by David Archuleta.
> 
> Beta'ed by the always amazing [meloingly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/meloingly). Thanks a lot for your help with this!

**[the honky tonk]**

The first time Carlos sees TK Strand outside of their jobs, he’s sitting at the bar nursing a glass of water of all things, talking in hushed tones with Captain Strand. He stares from afar, debating with himself if he should take the chance and walk up to TK when Michelle drops on the seat next to him with a sigh.

“What are you thinking about, Carlos?” she asks, snatching his beer from his hands, where it has been lying idle for the past ten minutes, and making a face when the lukewarm liquid hits her throat. “What’s this?”

“It’s supposed to be beer,” Carlos replies. “Serves you right for stealing others’ drinks, chica.”

“So, when are you going to ask him out on a dance, or do I have to watch you brood here for the rest of the night?” Michelle jabs one finger into his arm. “‘Cause I’m going to need much more alcohol if that’s the case.”

Carlos shakes his head. For all his talk about how Michelle should go on with her life — about how she should let go of a past packed with memories of Iris everywhere she looked at, about how she should stop harassing Dustin after three years of dead-ends — Carlos is unable to forget about his own trauma, his own skeletons in his closet. He just can’t walk up to the bar and ask a complete stranger to dance, even if that stranger has the most beautiful green eyes and an intoxicating smile.

TK Strand is everything Carlos knows he should avoid, and yet he’s still here, sitting at a booth in their favorite bar, waiting for a sign to tell him that he’s on the right track.

“I don’t think he’d dance with me, that’s all,” Carlos mutters. He grabs the bottle from the spot where Michelle has left it and makes the mistake of drinking out of it. He grimaces all the same when the beer rushes through his mouth and goes down his throat. “Ugh, I should go order another. D’you want anything?”

“Uhm, yeah,” Michelle smiles brightly at him. “I want my best friend to ask that cute firefighter for a dance.”

“You’re something else, did you know that?” Carlos shakes his head. “He’s with his father. I won’t go up there and make a fool out of myself in front of Captain Strand.”

“Oh, I can help with that!”

Before Carlos can say anything else, Michelle has left their booth and he sees her strutting with a purpose toward the Strand men. He can’t hear what she’s saying, but she effectively whisks Captain Strand away from the bar and into the dancing floor, leaving his path clear just in case he grows some balls and decides to act on whatever he’s feeling right now. He’s trained to trust his gut in difficult situations, but whenever he’s followed his instincts outside of the job he’s found himself with a broken heart and another scar on his soul.

Michelle turns to look at him briefly, and winks when he catches her eye. 

Steering himself, Carlos walks slowly toward the bar. TK is alone, the glass dancing in between his fingers as he laughs at his father’s attempts at line dancing. Carlos steals a glance at the dancing floor and watches as Captain Strand makes some moves that have Michelle cheering for him.

He waits for a second at a distance from TK, taking in the way his shoulders shake when he laughs before he makes up his mind and walks the few steps separating him from TK.

TK shoots him an appreciative look when he reaches the bar; Carlos knows he’s looking specially dashing tonight, wearing a tighter shirt as per Michelle’s insistence, but the man in front of him doesn’t fall behind in his own green shirt that brings out the light in his eyes.

“Wanna dance?” he asks before he can think it better. He holds his breath while TK’s eyes roam his frame one more time, unblinking as that green gaze goes from his own eyes to his waist and up again.

“Yeah, yeah, I do,” TK replies, standing up and following Carlos to the dance floor.

He knows city boys are used to any kind of dancing — line dancing, hip hop, salsa — but he’s still surprised that TK has some moves in him. He’s not his father, from what Carlos can see out of the corner of his eye, but the younger Strand has some spark in him, and that’s enough for Carlos to enjoy this dance much more than he thought he would.

They move together in an attempt to coordinate their steps, but TK ends up stepping on Carlos’ toes more than once or twice. Carlos doesn’t complain, because every time that happens TK lets out a bashful laugh, apologizing profusely and touching Carlos lightly on his arm, skin blazing with a heat unknown to Carlos until now.

He’d kill for those fingers digging deeper into his flesh. He’d _die_ without those hands touching him.

As the night progresses, Carlos manages to snag several songs, each one slower than its precedent, until he’s moving close to TK, his breath tickling Carlos’ cheek as he holds TK in his arms, as he feels TK’s hands around his neck. His heart is soaring but he feels strangely grounded.

He doesn’t want this night to end. He doesn’t want to let go of TK, and he’s only known him for a few calls and one dance. 

Carlos allows his head to drop until his forehead is touching TK’s, and he sways with the melody for a little longer.

**[the queer bar]**

Carlos has to admit, this isn’t the way he thought his night would go when he invited TK over for tamales — _no alcohol on the side_ , he’d added on the text message he’d sent TK — because his idea had been foregoing the tamales and starting with the dessert.

And yet, here he is, waiting outside the station, leaning against the side of his Camaro while TK fidgets nervously by his side.

“He should be out any moment,” TK says for the fourth time in the past three minutes. Carlos wants to strangle him, but he stops himself before he says something he might regret. “Have I thanked you enough for this? I have the feeling I haven’t.”

“Yeah, you have,” Carlos teases him, bumping his shoulder against TK’s. “But I wouldn’t mind it if you’d remind me. You know, once this is all over and Paul has enjoyed his time at the pub. And, preferably, when we’re all alone.”

“Just like you’d planned this whole night out.”

There’s a tinge of sadness in TK’s voice that has Carlos reaching out and grabbing his arm, forcing TK to face him. “I’d planned a night with _you_. And I’m getting exactly that, only with an added bonus.”

TK smiles slowly, standing on his toes to drop a quick peck on Carlos’ lips. “Nice comeback, Officer Reyes.”

“Nicely played, Firefighter Strand,” he replies, retreating to his position on the side of the Camaro. “Now, keep your hands to yourself, Strand. You don’t want to give Paul a scare once he steps out of the building, now do you?”

“Spoilsport,” TK mumbles, but he does as told and waits mostly impatiently for Paul to show up, his foot tapping the ground in a deafening staccato that’s about to drive Carlos crazy when Paul finally makes his appearance, looking as bewildered as Carlos had expected him to.

“Hey, guys, what’s going on?” he asks with a frown.

“Waiting on you,” TK replies, sounding so sure of himself that Carlos can’t help but look at him with something akin to pride in his features.

He couldn’t fool anyone, much less himself — it’s closer to _love_ than he’s comfortable admitting.

“Me? Why?” Paul doesn’t sound convinced, but Carlos doesn’t doubt that he will end up playing along with them. After all, TK always gets what he wants, and Carlos has the inkling that Paul trusts him with his life. In their line of duty, that’s a given.

“Because you’re coming out with us tonight.” When Paul shakes his head, he continues, “I’m serious, Paul. We’re not taking no for an answer.”

Paul tries to escape this plan, but TK doesn’t relent, and jumps into the Camaro without listening to another word. That leaves Paul and Carlos alone outside the vehicle, and there’s an uncomfortable shift in the air until Paul forces some words out, a line that Carlos can see pains him to say.

“So, uh, I guess he told you about me.”

Carlos could lie. He could tell Paul that TK hasnʼt said anything. Or maybe he could assure Paul that heʼs on his side. Or maybe he could simply nod and let the issue get past them, but Carlos Reyes doesn’t like lying, and he canʼt tell Paul that he supports his lifestyle — words donʼt hold the same power than actions, and heʼs a police officer. 

He loves action. And he doesn’t believe in empty words heʼs sure Paul has heard over and over. 

“What, that you’re straight?” he finally says over the roof of his blue car, one hand on the metal and the other on the door. “Yeah,” Carlos smiles softly. “I don’t judge, man.”

The trip to the bar is filled with chatter between the two firefighters while Carlos drives. When he finds a parking spot practically in front of the building, he decides itʼs a sign that heʼs made a good decision. 

TK looks like an excited puppy when they cross the threshold and enter a different realm — a place that doesn’t share anything in common with the rest of Texas. 

“Keep Austin weird, baby!” TK howls as they wade their way through the crowd dancing in the middle of the floor. 

They soon lose sight of Paul, stolen by some girl or another, eaten up by sweaty bodies that most probably feel warm against his strong hands. Carlos searches for him among the people, and when he sees Paul enjoying himself on the dance floor, Carlos knows he’s done the right thing tonight. Maybe he’d expected a different outcome from cooking his mom’s tamales for TK, but he wouldn’t have traded that alternate universe for what he has in this precise moment.

Which is a bouncy TK with a soda in his hands, tilting his head to the side as he inspects the crowd as though he’s trying to make sense of the craziness around them. The electronic music is thunderous in his ears, and the strobe lights are blinding him, but Carlos wouldn’t change this experience for anything else. He hadn’t realized how much TK missed this kind of distraction — the faceless crowds, the heat, the music and the ambiance — until he’s seen TK moving his head in sync with the music that Carlos has yet to learn how to dance to.

He’s willing to give it a try, if only because it’s something TK clearly loves.

“Dance with me?” he shouts right into TK’s ear, trying to get above the sound of the music. For a second he thinks he hasn’t succeeded, for TK doesn’t say a thing — he doesn’t even give a sign out that he’s heard Carlos — but then TK cocks his head so he can look Carlos straight in the eye and smirks.

“You don’t even know how to dance to this, Carlos. Not even you could Fred Astaire your way out of this graciously.”

Carlos huffs out a laugh. “You’ve gotten better with your metaphors,” he says as he jabs TK on the shoulder playfully. “I’d love to give it a try. You’re clearly enjoying this. I want to enjoy it with you.”

“You’re always doing these things for me,” TK whispers, leaning into Carlos’ personal space so he can hear the words over the noise. “Why are you always offering to do things I like? We never do what you want to. I’m always dragging you around, and you never complain. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t,” Carlos tells him, his fingers finding their way to TK’s chin on their own volition. “Don’t ever apologize, Ty. I’m here because I want to. Believe me, if I didn’t want to do something, you’d know.”

TK nods briskly. Carlos takes advantage of his position, a bit higher than TK because he isn’t leaning against the bar, to kiss him senseless, trying to make his point come across. However, he stops the kiss before things get too heated — right when TK’s hands are sneaking underneath his shirt, scorching his skin with a passion Carlos hadn’t been expecting.

“What do you say, tiger?” he asks, a smirk finding its way to his lips as he quirks an eyebrow at the younger man.

“I say you’re game,” TK retaliates, grabbing his hand and guiding him to the center of the dance floor, where they mingle with the crowd as Carlos tries to follow TK’s lead for the first time while dancing. It’s a change of pace, of that he’s sure, but it isn’t something he doesn’t like. In fact, he enjoys it very much — stepping one second after TK, imitating moves and swirls, seizing on the opportunity to touch TK when he trips and he has to steer himself by clutching TK’s arms — and he wouldn’t mind spending the rest of his nights learning from the green-eyed man who has charmed his way into Carlos’ heart.

They promptly forget about Paul when they find their way outside, hands grabbing at shirts and lips fighting for dominance, as they start a different dance on their own.

**[the living room]**

They’re driving back to his condo after one date at the bar where they first danced together. Carlos can’t believe they get to reenact those first days together — going on dates to their favorite spots from when they were trying to figure out if there was an _us_ in their _Carlos_ and _TK_. Having drinks and playing darts and then going to the clearing where TK chose them is Carlos’ idea of the perfect way to celebrate their first anniversary.

“I can’t believe you asked me to move in with you,” TK marvels, his head resting against the window, eyes gazing outside. “I can’t believe I said yes.”

“Having second thoughts already, Strand?” Carlos teases, but his hand is already reaching out to grab TK’s, squeezing it in what he hopes is a comforting way. TK sighs happily and closes his eyes, allowing the music from the radio to sweep over them both.

Carlos would gladly spend his entire life watching TK humming along whatever tune shows up on the radio.

Now Carlos knows TK a little better — he knows about some of the triggers he unconsciously unchained the night he invited TK over for dinner with champagne — so he’s trying his best not to unfetter any more reactions that could end up with TK scrambling off the floor of some dirty bar.

“I kinda like it here,” TK tells him when they enter the living room, as though it’s the first time he’s seeing it. And maybe it is —maybe it’s the first time TK is actually _seeing_ Carlos’ living room, even after all those hookups that went faster than lightning, even after all these months spending every other night in the master room. “It feels like a home.”

Carlos tries to tamper down the butterflies that set flight in his stomach at those words, but it’s to no avail. He can’t help the nervousness arising as he closes his front door and steps behind TK. It isn’t the first time they’re together alone in Carlos’ apartment, but it certainly feels like the beginning of something different, something new — something _worthy_.

It is the first time they’re together in _their_ living room.

“I can’t believe you said yes,” Carlos mutters to himself, too low for TK to hear.

It’s some kind of miracle on its own, to be able to taste this.

TK flitters around the living room, his own nerves evident in the way his hands are flailing at his sides whenever he stops to admire some decoration he hasn’t noticed before, until he pauses in front of the stereo and begins punching all the buttons.

“Hey, what are you doing?” Carlos asks with a laugh, sauntering toward TK and holding his hands away from the device. “Here, I’ll play some music.” He expertly pushes some of the buttons, and a soft tune fills the air. “Better?”

TK beams up at him before he waltzes away, moving in sync with the melody. Carlos follows him with his gaze, watching as TK falters in his steps and chuckling at him. “Care to dance with a partner?” he offers before he can think better about it.

TK nods and opens his arms to welcome Carlos as he steps closer, his own arms around TK’s waist. Carlos breathes in TK’s scent — a mix between sandalwood and something that’s inherently _TK_ — allowing himself to just enjoy the moment. He doesn’t have to think about what went wrong all the other times he’s tried to date someone else — he had lied to Michelle when he said that it doesn’t always turn weird. All the experience he has with dating can be summed up in the other man walking away as soon as he can, alleging reasons Carlos could never wrap his head about.

But that’s the good thing about this thing he has going on with TK. They’re taking it slow because of TK’s own past traumas, but they haven’t got a setback ever since those first few days, right after Carlos found about TK’s life story at their encounter at the precinct — even though Carlos knows it had been more about TK being arrested for starting a fight at a bar than about them casually running into each other.

He knows TK holds so many secrets he has yet to discover, and he can’t wait to know the firefighter better. He can be patient, though. He can take his time and enjoy the journey now that they both finally are on the same page.

“Where did you learn to dance like this?” TK mutters into Carlos’ shirt. “I feel like a toddler learning to walk while you’re like, running like Usain Bolt.”

He can’t help the laughter that escapes his lips. “That was the worst comparison in the whole world,” he breathes in between wheezes, trying to calm himself down enough so TK doesn’t think he’s laughing at him. “You could have gone with some kind of dancing metaphor, and you chose to compare me to Usain Bolt?”

“Well, you’re fast when you want to be!” TK joins him, snickering as he pushes Carlos backward with one firm hand on his chest. “Even though right now you’re doing everything you can to take this slow. And for that I’m so grateful, Carlos. Even if I can’t promise I’ll ever be ready for more than _this_ ,” he whispers, gesturing between them.

Carlos knows what TK means, but he can’t help the doubt assaulting him at those words. He can’t tell TK that it’s been fun, but he’s looking for something TK can’t provide. He can’t bail out now, give TK an out It’s too late.

It’s already too late for him to fall out of love with TK Strand.

“I could teach you,” Carlos offers, and he’s not only talking about dancing. He’s providing TK the reassurance that he’s not walking away, not without a fight. “We could be great dance partners, if you’d want to give it a try.”

TK takes a step backward, retreating to a few feet away from Carlos. He lifts one hand to his chin, tapping his jaw as he feigns to think hard about Carlos’ words. A slow smile appears on his lips, lighting his face with amusement and something so similar to hope that has Carlos’ heart beating fast in his chest.

“I think I would like that,” TK whispers. There’s a glint of mischievous defiance in his eyes as he walks back to Carlos and throws his arms around his neck with an intent that hadn’t been present before. “I would like that very much, Officer Reyes.”

“Oh, I bet you would, Firefighter Strand,” Carlos mutters. He leans in, his forehead bumping slightly against TK’s, as he moves following the music that guides his feet. 

TK mimics his movements, falling into step with Carlos for the first time while dancing. Carlos takes it as a really good omen, the two of them drifting together across the wooden floor of his, _their_ , living room, finding a pace that works for them — both in dancing and in life.

Carlos lets out a sigh when the music stops, but he doesn’t pause his steps. Instead, he tilts his head to the side, nudging TK’s cheek with his nose until TK complies and seeks Carlos’ lips with his own.

They remain swaying in place, kissing slowly as though they have all the time in the world.

Maybe they do.

**[the station]**

A year and a half after Owen Strand accepted to take over Station 126 in Austin, Buttercup comes back from his tests completely healthy — or at least as healthy as a dog that has survived cancer can be. Everyone agrees on a big party to celebrate that they arenʼt losing him to one horrible illness, and the date is saved on the giant schedule hanging off the wall in Captain Strandʼs office. 

When TK realizes that they’re throwing a party for Buttercup the same day his father has an appointment to find out whether or not his last treatment has worked, he has a breakdown in front of Carlos, during dinner time. 

“What if there are bad news?” TK muses, prodding at the food on his plate with his fork and not eating. “How could we throw a party?” 

Carlos knows that there isn’t any chance for TK to finish his food — theyʼve been through this enough times in the past eighteen months for him to recognize the symptoms. TK is about to go on another rant. 

“There wonʼt be any bad news, Tyler,” he intervenes in what he hopes is a stern voice. “Youʼve been there with him the whole process. Youʼve heard his doctors. Your father will be in remission, and the party will be for them both.” 

“Then why do I feel like something bad is going to happen?” TK whispers miserably, giving up on any pretense of eating and pushing his food away. 

“Itʼs a coping mechanism,” Carlos explains. He scoots closer to his boyfriend and takes his hand in his. “Your brain is trying to protect itself in case something goes wrong. But believe me, it wonʼt.” 

TK doesn’t seem to believe him, but Carlos considers it a small victory when his boyfriend doesn’t refuse a tiny portion of Lina Reyesʼ famous lemon mousse. 

Owenʼs results come negative, just like Carlos had anticipated, and the party turns out to be a bash to celebrate life in all of its forms. Carlos is late to it, though, his shift overlapping once again with TKʼs so when he sets foot at the station everyone is already dancing and laughing, plastic plates hovering dangerously off the edge of the makeshift tables. 

He spots Michelle sitting on a couch, a glass of wine in her hand, and he makes a beeline for her. It’s been a while since they both caught up — what with Carlos having a new roommate in the form of one TK Strand who demands full attention, and to whom Carlos plans to be devoted forever. 

“What’s up, chica?” he greets as he flops down beside her. “Too old to party?” 

“I wanted to sit down for a bit,” she leans in and ruffles his otherwise perfectly styled hair. He shakes his head but itʼs too late; one of his curls regain its true form and falls wild on his forehead. “Why are you still in your uniform?” 

“Came here straight from work. Wouldn’t have missed this party for anything!” 

He gestures around them and in the general direction of a ring of people trying to line dance under Mateoʼs guidance, which is proving to be disastrous. 

“Yeah, I bet youʼve come for the company,” she jokes. 

“Of course! Who do you think youʼre talking to?” 

“A beast,” says TK showing up out of nowhere and startling Carlos. “Why havenʼt you come to greet me?” 

Carlos smiles at his boyfriend and he gets up, nodding his head toward Michelle. She motions for him to go on; he ends up following TK to the table where so many different dishes are on display. He can spot Marjan’s Tajine and Mateoʼs enchiladas, and some other plates full to the brim with what looks like Paulʼs doing. The dessert is definitely Graceʼs — a layered chocolate cake that Carlos would kill to taste right at this moment. 

“You were right,” TK says almost nonchalantly. Carlos can see the slight tremble of his hands, the faint quiver in his voice. “Heʼs in remission.” 

Carlos squeezes his arm. “Are you feeling any better now that you know?” 

“Oh yeah,” TK exhales. “I get to have my father for many more years. I have you by my side. Lifeʼs looking good for us. I donʼt think I need anything else,” he teases Carlos, fully knowing what his words always do to his boyfriend. 

“You sure?” he says, one hand already on TKʼs waist, pulling him close. 

The music shifts, changing to a beat-up tune. Carlos grins as he moves his hips to it, bumping against TK softly. “I used to dance to this song almost every weekend when we went out partying.”

TK chuckles. “I donʼt think Iʼve ever heard it,” he confesses, resting his head on Carlosʼs shoulder. 

“Oh, the blissful ignorance of youth,” Carlos mocks him. “You city boys need a bit of musical lessons.” 

“You’re only three years older than me!” TK protests, shoving Carlos playfully and putting a slight distance between them.

“This song is sick!” Mateo exclaims, too close to them to actually ignore him, blasting their tiny bubble of intimacy in the middle of a full station. “Cʼmon, Carlos, Iʼm sure you remember how to dance this one!” 

“You bet!” Carlos agrees, easily tugging at TK to follow him. His boyfriend stumbles and trips over his feet, landing on Carlos with a soft _thud_. “Hey!” 

“Donʼt worry, clumsy boy,” Carlos softly mutters into TKʼs ear. “I’ll always catch you.” 

There’s a silence that falls over them, when TK looks up at him with those impossibly green eyes that seem almost translucent, and Carlos can feel the love radiating off TK. Carlos has said those words over and over during these past months, but TK has never once said them back. 

Carlos knows itʼs a big deal — that TK will tell him when heʼs ready — and he doesn’t really need those three words because he can _feel_ them whenever he looks into TKʼs eyes. 

“Thatʼs why I love you,” he whispers. 

Carlos squeezes his arm tightly, fingers digging into TKʼs skin, and he canʼt help himself. He leans in and claims those lips in a kiss thatʼs a promise for more, and a tease. 

“Get a room!” someone says behind them, but Carlos chooses to ignore them, just as he ignores the music altogether, getting lost in TK the same way TK melts against him. 

**[the bridge]**

Pennybacker Bridge looks gorgeous under the moonlight. Carlos rejoices in his choice of a place to go after their dinner to celebrate TK’s birthday. It’s a perfect night as well — good weather, open starry skies — and it’s the perfect setup for what he’s planning to do tonight.

He’s laid a blanket on the ground, he’s pulled out another one to cover them when it gets cooler, and he’s placed the velvet box in the secret pocket of his jacket. Everything’s in place and he’s going to enjoy the few moments of peace he has before the nerves crawl upon him and take over. He knows what he’s going to do could backfire on him — even after a little over three years together, Carlos knows TK still holds some pain in his soul and this could be a trigger for him. But Carlos has to try, he has to _ask_. His mother would kill him if he didn’t put up the family ring he’d asked of her to good use.

Carlos lies down on the blanket, hands behind his head as he stares up at the stars, trying to count them. He’s been practicing his speech for a week straight by now, he knows every single word and yet he feels like he might die if he utters a sound. By his side, TK turns on his side and gazes up at him, the green in his eyes gleaming with a golden reflection from the stars.

“Penny for your thoughts,” he says, startling Carlos.

“Uh, I wasn’t actually thinking,” he tries to play it cool, but TK knows him inside out by now — he knows about all his quirks and his ticks. “For real.”

“I, uhm,” TK continues, sounding suddenly nervous. He’s sitting now, supporting his weight on his arm as well. “There’s something I wanted to tell you. But I, erm, I’m not sure how you’re going to take it.”

Carlos immediately sits up, looking at his boyfriend with a concerned frown. “You know you can tell me whatever you want, Ty. Whatever it is.”

TK sighs. “That’s what Carlota said,” he huffs out. “You’re so like your mother, even if you don’t want to believe it.”

“Wait, you talked to my mom?” Carlos says, surprised. “Why would you go to—No, listen, I’m glad you feel comfortable enough around her to go to her for advice, but why did you go to her before you came to me with whatever this is?”

“Well, I kinda had to,” TK replies bashfully. He’s blushing slightly, Carlos can see a pink tinge to his cheeks under the starlight. “Talked to your sisters, as well.”

“TK?” Carlos purses his lips in a fine line. “You’re scaring me.”

“Just, just bear with me, okay? Last time I did this, it didn’t go exactly well so,” TK whispers, fishing inside his pocket and producing a black velvet box, and shifting so he’s on one knee in front of Carlos.

And it hits Carlos then, the reason why TK’s so nervous, the reason why he’s gone to his mother and his sisters, the meaning behind his words.

TK is proposing to him.

Carlos stares at him, unable to stop that freight train even if he wanted to. Which he doesn’t. He’s frozen on the spot, glancing at TK in disbelief that, for the first time in their whole history, it’s Carlos the one that’s a step behind.

“Carlos Reyes,” TK starts, his voice cracking. He clears his throat and starts again. “Carlos, I love you. It’s been a wild ride to get here. It’s been a tough process for me, to be able to trust someone as much as I trust you. And I know I’ve been difficult. I know I come with so much baggage that it’s more of a burden than you’d ever imagined. But I’m willing to work on my faults, and I’m willing to do it for the rest of our lives, if you let me. So, Carlos, what I’m really asking here is, will you marry me?”

TK flips the box open, and Carlos is amazed as he stares at a golden ring with a small diamond on it, a few letters engraved on the inside. He lifts a shaky finger to his face, touching the tip of his nose to try and find some grounding. The ring is perfect for him, and the effort TK has made to meet him at this point — to be ready to take this huge step with him after everything that happened with Alex — the mere idea of TK proposing to him the same night he’d planned on popping to question to TK has gone from hilarious to romantic in the span of a nanosecond.

“ _Yours forever_ ,” TK recites, twirling the ring in his hand in a nervous attempt to keep himself busy while waiting for Carlos to overcome his own dazed state.

He wants to say yes, he really wants, but instead of words what comes out of his mouth is a choked sob. He searches in his hidden pocket and takes out his own red velvet, opening it for TK to see the simple gold band that’s been in the Reyes family for several generations.

“I had planned—” Carlos begins. He realizes he’s going through the same TK’s gone through merely seconds before — his hands are sweating and his voice is quivering, but he knows he has to keep on.

He _needs_ to.

“I can’t believe you beat me to it,” he starts again, huffing a laugh. “All this time I’ve been the one pulling at you, and you decide to step up your game tonight of all nights?”

“Carlos?” TK says warily, pointing at the ring in Carlos’ hands. “Is that what I think it is?”

“It most certainly is,” Carlos tells him. “Unless you’d think I’d asked my mom for the family ring just to take it out camping at the most romantic bridge in Austin.”

“You haven’t answered _my_ question,” TK complains, not even glancing away from the gleaming rings. 

“Let me ask mine first, and then you tell me if that’s an answer enough for you,” Carlos commands, rendering TK silent as he keeps on. “I had this whole speech ready, but yours has been so wonderful, so—I love you so much, TK. I know I say it all the time, but I mean it. All the time. I’d love to remind you how much you mean to me for as long as you take me.”

“Yes,” TK exhales in a rush, eliciting another chuckle from Carlos.

“I haven’t even asked my question yet!”

“You know the answer is yes!” 

“I want to say the words, may I?” Carlos winks at him playfully. TK nods, sitting on the heels of his feet as he waits impatiently for Carlos to speak. “Tyler Kennedy, I love you. I plan on loving you for the rest of my life. Will you be my dancing partner for the rest of yours?”

TK surges forward and captures Carlos’ lips in a searing kiss. Carlos can’t help himself, leaning into the kiss and gently helping TK back on the ground, covering his body with his bigger frame.

They dance to a different tune tonight, underneath a sky full of stars that bear witness to the love they’ve found when they both least were expecting it — to the love that’s helped them both grow and become one.

**[the venue]**

“Hey, Mr. Reyes,” TK says with a sly smirk slowly blooming in his face.

“Yeah, Mr.. Reyes-Strand?” he replies coyly, cocking his head to the side and shooting TK an appreciative look.

“Would you like to dance?”

Carlos shakes his head in disbelief. He looks down at himself, sitting in his chair the same way he’s been for half of the ceremony and the whole of the reception. He signals the cast that peeks from under his slacks, tailored specifically so they could fit the plaster he’s forced to wear for at least five more weeks. “You know I can’t, TK,” he whispers. “I’m sorry. I know this isn’t the way you wanted to get married, but—”

“Hey, stop that nonsense,” TK cuts him off. “You offered to postpone the ceremony when you learned that your leg was broken, and I said no.”

“You refused fair and square!” Carlos exclaims. He can’t believe they’re having their first arguments as husbands on their wedding day. “I could have danced with you if we had set it back for two months. I know how hard you’ve worked on those moves.”

TK squats until he’s on Carlos’ eye level. He reaches out and traces a pattern on Carlos’ arm — lines that remind Carlos of water flowing. “Listen to me, because I will only say this once, Carlos Reyes. I almost lost you on the job. I wasn’t about to let a single day go by after that call.”

Carlos purses his lips when he sees tears in TK’s eyes. It’s been an emotive day, both of them getting emotional — as well as Owen and Gwenyth, and the 126 family in full. Even Buttercup has been acting weirdly clingy to TK, more than ever. He doesn’t need the added weight of the memories of that stint gone awry eleven days before.

His mother had bid him farewell this morning — as though he’s leaving her forever — with a soft sigh and a truth he’s never going to forget. “To be married, Carlos,” she’d said, “is to be yourself with someone who might not always understand you, but who will always support you.”

Valentina and Sofía had gifted him with their presence and their words of wisdom while Mari danced around the hotel room where he’d been getting ready, playing with the strings of her ribbons, matching with the cushion she gets to hold as the bearer of the rings. “I love TK,” Valentina had said with a smile. “But it’s not too late to give him that threatening speech.”

“You won’t do such a thing,” Sofía had reprimanded her sister. “TK’s good for Carlos. Keeps him grounded. I would give _Carlos_ that talk, not TK.”

“Hey!” Carlos had tried to protest, only to be cut off by Lola entering the room, dragging a giant parcel with her. “Lola! Tell them to stop!”

“Whatever they’re saying,” Lola had laughed, “they’re probably right. Here, open this. I can’t wait until TK’s around to see it.”

“You were the ones who told us we couldn’t see each other before the wedding1”

“That’s tradition, hermano,” Lola had pointed out. “Now, open it.”

And Carlos had done as told, because he’s a good younger brother, and he’d been stunned by the sheer beauty of the painting he’d uncovered — an oil-painted portrait of TK and himself, smiling brightly at each other, oblivious to the rest of the world. 

“How—When—” he’d stuttered. “It’s—Lola, it’s gorgeous.”

That had been the start of his crying, slumping against his mother’s smaller frame, hugging his sisters and his niece, and he hasn’t stopped wiping at his eyes ever since.

“I still have cuts and bruises,” Carlos tries to make his point come across, but TK is having none of it. He’s shaking his head so fast that Carlos thinks he’ll get dizzier from the movement than from anything else. “TK, you deserved gorgeous wedding photos, not a groom that couldn’t stand still on his feet for more than a few minutes.”

“That’s what you don’t understand,” TK clarifies for him, his hand shooting up until it’s resting on Carlos’ cheek, covering the purpling bruise that’s now slowly receding. “I got so lucky, four years ago when I met you, and I got lucky once again eleven days ago when you woke up from that—that—” he can’t say the words, so he simply licks his lips nervously. “But don’t allow me to go back there. I didn’t want to wait another day, and we had the venue and we had the people who love us and, most importantly, we had each other. I don’t need anything but you, Carlos Reyes.”

Carlos doesn’t fight the tears that escape his eyes. “I love you, TK Reyes-Strand.”

“And I love you, _husband_ ,” TK says, standing up. “I won’t ever get tired of that word. Now, you never answered my question. Would you dance with me?”

“I still can’t dance, Ty,” Carlos reminds him. 

“Well, then I guess it’s my turn to teach you some moves,” TK replies, stretching out his hand, palm up, and he waits for Carlos to take it before he pulls Carlos up and balances him on his good leg while the rest of his weight falls on TK. “Easy there, cowboy. I can lift you for a while, see? I’m strong enough.”

“I already knew that,” Carlos deadpans. “But what are you doing, TK? You won’t be able to hold me up for long.”

“Just enough for us to dance our first dance as husbands,” TK explains to him. “I know how important that is to you, so we’re having it, even if it is a slightly shorter version of the _Beauty and the Beast_ song since you chose to get your leg broken eleven days before your wedding, Officer Reyes.”

Carlos has to chuckle to hide the way he’s freely crying now — tears of happiness that mix with a love so strong it threatens to take over him. Maybe he should allow it to reign in his life, even if for a little while. 

“How are we going to do this?” he whispers, the words breaking in his voice.

“Are you going soft on me, Reyes?” TK teases him. However, he holds Carlos tighter, flushed against himself as he helps Carlos to get to the middle of the dancing room. “Now, you just relax and let me hold you up. Lean on me, Carlos, and just relax.”

“So I just—”

“Just trust me,” TK says as he helps Carlos to place part of his weight on him instead of on his bad leg. The first chords of the song can be heard over Carlos’ heart thumping in his chest, and he can feel a fresh batch of tears welling up in his eyes when he hears the words in Spanish in the magnificent voices of Michelle and Serafín Zubiri.

“You remembered?” he whispers, taken aback by this surprise from his already husband. “You remembered this is my favorite version.”

“I always remember everything you tell me, Carlos,” TK assures him. “And I promised to keep remembering your words in my vows. I meant it.”

Carlos nods. “And I promised to always be by your side, no matter what.”

“We both made some serious promises today, Reyes,” TK tells him as he guides them both across the floor in a slow and somewhat clumsy dance that feels perfect to Carlos. “Better start living up to them.”

“I think I can do that,” Carlos whispers back, his fingers finding purchase in the small of TK’s back. “I think I can do that for the rest of my life.”

“You better,” TK mutters, leaning in, his breath tickling Carlos’ neck. “I love you.”

Carlos nods, unable to form words right now — and isn’t it the biggest irony of it all, the always chatty Officer Reyes, the man who would talk his way out of any situation, speechless on his wedding day — but he kisses TK’s cheek.

“Yeah, I thought so,” TK kisses Carlos’ neck as well. “Are you ready for the rest of your life, Mr Reyes?”

“As ready as I can be with you by my side, Mr. Reyes-Strand,” he manages to choke out.

He’s vowed to wake up to TK every day for the rest of his life, to make his existence lighter, to share everything with him, in the good and in the bad. They’ve started on the bad, but that seems to be their pattern — start with the hardships, bloom under duress, and grow to enjoy the prosperity.

He can’t wait to experience all the good with TK Reyes-Strand by his side.

**Author's Note:**

> Fun facts about this fic:
> 
> * Pennybacker Bridge exists and it’s one of the most beautiful places to get engaged at according to [this website](https://austin.com/thinking-about-proposing-consider-these-romantic-places-in-austin/)
> 
> * I borrowed the Reyes women from Bellakitse's universe, since she so nicely allowed me to. They're not mine, but hers, and if you don't know them already, you should go over her fics and enjoy them!


End file.
